Mysterious Ways And All That
by Silver Spider
Summary: After "Crossing the Rubicon" Blackarachnia reflects on everything that has changed in her life and what really matters. One-Shot. Not related to any of my other BW series.


_**Author's Note:**_ The beginning of this fic was actually written well over a year ago, then abandoned, and recently picked up again just because the episode "Crossing the Rubicon" has been on my mind a lot. I've been trying to understand why some characters who switched sides went very drastic changes and others only changed a little and very gradually. This is sort of my attempt to explore that plus an excuse to write some more Blackarachnia/Silverbolt fluff because I think there's not nearly enough. Enjoy and pleas review!

**Mysterious Ways And All That**

**By: Silver Spider**

Even after she reluctantly joined forces with them, Blackarachnia never dwelt on the idea of what it would be like to really be a Maximal. She'd never planned on allowing herself to be reprogrammed simply because she didn't like what she'd seen of them. Primal was powerful, but he clearly had no idea what to do with that power. Rhinox was intelligent but far too loyal. Cheetor was naive, Rattrap, cynical, and the lot of them had absolutely no ambition beyond simply surviving and returning to Cybertron. In her opinion, none of her new comrades showed any behavior that she would have liked to emulate. Blackarachnia found it ironic that it was precisely her quest for personal power, a very un-Maximal trait, that caused her official switch to the team.

Waking up as a Transmetal II on the operating table in the empty control center of the Maximal base was almost as painful and disorienting as emerging from the stasis pod in the grim halls of the Darksyde as a Predacon had been. She had more energy then she ever thought possible, but with it came a tension, nervousness, and an almost physical pain that seeped through every part of her new body. She had not been able to quite place it, and there hadn't been time.

When she and Silverbolt returned to the Ark, it was the lack of space that was suddenly overwhelming. Primal had admonished them both in turn – he would not be Primal if he had not – while Rhinox wanted to know the technical details of what happened to her. The kid was couldn't seem to stop grinning like an idiot, and even the rat seemed genuinely happy to see her alive. Almost a full megacycle had passed before she managed to disentangle herself from her intrusive, albeit well-meaning, comrades and get away for a little while.

Now that she did have some space and time, the tension that had plagued her since her revival returned with a vengeance. After making a few trips around the Ark in an unsuccessful attempt to clear her head, Blackarachnia retreated to the outlook just outside the volcano. It did not take her long to realize that it was the same place she and Silverbolt had shared their last few cycles of her time as a Predacon together before she underwent the removal of the shell program. Blackarachnia was not certain when she had started to think of the outlook as 'their place'. In the past the thought would have at the very least annoyed her, but now it felt absolutely right.

The tumbling of small rocks caught her attention, but Blackarachnia didn't even have to glance over her shoulder to know who was approaching. A few seconds passed before Silverbolt, surprisingly in his beast mode for once as he rarely took the form when he was with her, padded to a spot beside her and gave her the best smile his canine features could manage.

"Good evening, beloved."

"Hey, Bowser," her relaxed tone belied her state of mixed exhaustion and strained nerves.

But just as she had become adapt at reading him, Silverbolt was getting fairly good at reading her as well, a far more difficult task than the opposite. His body shifted in that manner he had when he was uncomfortable or pensive.

"Is something amiss?"

She was about to assure him that everything was fine, but it would have been a lie, and to her own surprise, Blackarachnia found that she couldn't get it past her lips. Silverbolt, of all bots, deserved her honesty, especially after everything that happened. She sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted as well as on edge, and allowed herself a cycle to compose her thoughts.

"I'm a little mad at you, you know," she finally admitted without actually looking at him. From the corner of her optic, Blackarachnia saw the fuzzor's canine ears perk up then lie flat against his head in the most ridiculous looking gesture of guilt. The black widow was not about to be pacified though.

"Scratch that," her voice was even stronger. "I'm really mad at you."

"My lady, if it is something I have done, I assure you it was never my intent to..."

"I don't care what you intended," the spider cut him off sharply. "But picking a fight with Tarantulas and Rampage is a suicide mission for any bot, and seeing you about to get scraped was not the scene I wanted to wake up to."

There was a moment of silence before the shift of gears were heard, and Silverbolt sat down next to her in his robot mode. He did not look particularly abashed or apologetic, probably because he knew it was not him she was striking out at. Her turmoil was purely internal, and thus all her words and actions a direct result of it. Patience, however, was one of his many virtues.

"What is troubling you, my love?" he touched her shoulder gently. "Tell me, and I will assist you in any way I can."

The corner of her mouth twitched in a smile. "That's just it, Bowser. You can't help. Not when I'm pretty sure it's all in my head."

He cocked his head to the side, signaling that he did not quite understand. She sighed.

"They think I haven't change that much, don't they? The others, I mean. I waltz back in there, with that same abrasiveness, same cockiness, same... disregard for Primal and his slag. The only thing that's changed as far as they're concerned is they're a little less worried about me selling them out at the drop of a screw. That's fine. I want them to think that. They recharge better at night that way."

"But you do feel different." It was not a question.

"I _feel_," she tapped her breast plate beneath which her spark pulsed. "Some things are the same, but the rest... It's like stepping out of your own body for a minute and looking down at everything. Some things that I thought were really important now look completely trivial, while others that I dismissed I now know I shouldn't have."

"Such as?"

Blackarachnia shrugged her shoulders a little helplessly. "Too many to name. When I was a Predacon, it felt like I was angry all the time, even when there was no reason for me to be. If I was approaching this from a purely scientific point of view, I'd guess the shell program doesn't do that much, just suppresses any positive emotions, any moral ideals," she snorted, as if laughing at an inside joke. "It's probably easier to make a Maximal into a Predacon than vise versa. You can't grow a conscious."

Silverbolt was thoughtful. "Dinobot always claimed his Predacon heritage despite any allegiance he swore, but then he also had his code of honor to temper any base blood lust."

"Well, he's a better bot than I," it came out harsher than she had intended, and she quickly held up her hand before Silverbolt could argue one way or another. "I'm just trying to understand what's happened to me. I feel the same, but everything around me is different, brighter, sharper somehow. It's hard to describe. Sorry for the babble."

"No, do not apologize. I am happy to listen, though I am sorry I cannot do more."

"Huh," she half-smiled again, "don't be sorry. I can't exactly imagine you as a Pred. And before you say it, your momentary insanity when you came online doesn't count."

He also smiled at that. "I must concur. I am afraid I would make a poor villain."

"Thank Primus for that. I've had enough to last me a life time or two," she did not mean to shutter, but there was enough of a shift for him to notice. Silverbolt's brows drew together.

"Tarantulas?"

She nodded uneasily. "I think I'm more afraid now than I was when... before. Because before I just reacted, didn't have the time or sense to be afraid, and now that I have more power than ever, it's not doing me much good in that department."

"And me," he reminded her, though it was difficult for him to keep the anger out of his voice. "You have me. You know I will never let him touch you again. I should have killed him."

Denying it would not have been true, but the statement made her uncomfortable again. Of course she wanted Tarantulas dead, if not as a form of revenge than just to feel safe once and for all. But the way Silverbolt said it brought back the fear of loss all over again, and that emotion was even stronger than any fear she felt regarding herself.

"I can deal with him," Blackarachnia stated firmly. "_We_ can deal with him. Bring the whole team along, if need be, and share the fun. I'm _not_ willing to risk loosing you like I almost did tonight. It's not worth it."

The corner of his mouth twitched as if he was trying not to grin at an inappropriate moment, but she could read the look on his face clear as day. No matter how hard he might have been suppressing it, the light in his face.

_You _do_ love me_, it declared triumphantly.

Blackarachnia nearly rolled her eyes. How stupid. Of course she did. What on Earth or Cybertron would make him think otherwise?

_Except_, a small, long-silenced voice inside her head gently reminded her, _have you ever actually _told_ him that?_

She knew she had not, and it immediately jumped to the top of the list of things she should have found important but had not until now. He could have died today. She could have – had – died. They were in a war, and both could be blown away in a nonoclinic. He'd never know...

Without any warning she leaned over and kissed his muzzle-like mouth. It was not the most chaste nor passionate kiss they'd ever shared, but every burden of the last twenty-four hours, everything that needed to be said went into it. When they pulled apart, her crimson optics met his golden ones.

"I love you," the words were spoken with nothing but honesty. "I know I haven't always acted like it, but I do. No matter happens in this war or when we get back to Cybertron."

"And I, you," his smile was warm if not without just a hint of amusement. "Did you not think I knew?"

"I..." For once he had actually managed to catch her off guard. Was he a mind-reader now?

"I feel it," he took her hands and placed them on his chest above his own spark chamber. "Just as you felt when I needed you tonight, or I felt you were in danger when Megatron first unleashed his cyder raptors."

A bond.

She had ignored it, had not wanted to admit it, but when she let down her defenses even a little, Blackarachnia could feel the the comfort and love flowing through it. They had bonded in a way that for them transcended any other power in the universe. And _this_ bond did not terrify her.

Still smiling, Silverbolt gathered her into his arms and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Do not fear, my love. The worst is behind us."


End file.
